


Nail Polish

by hellborn



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), youtube - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Death, Depression, F/F, F/M, High School AU, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Pastel-ish!Dan, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suidical Character, Swearing, Transfered From Wattpad, Trigger Warnings, homophobic parents, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-12 13:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 20,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11737641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellborn/pseuds/hellborn
Summary: sometimes, even the brightest ray of sunshine could use some help breaking through the darkness.(This is shit and on indefinite hiatus)TRIGGER WARNING : SUICIDAL CHARACTER & SUICIDE ATTEMPT FEATURED





	1. i. green eyes, curly hair

**Author's Note:**

> I will have trigger warnings for respective chapters in this note section. Enjoy this shitstorm.

_leaves tossed_  aimlessly across the paved walkway as a tall boy with onyx hair and cobalt eyes hurried past, books clutched tight to his chest.

after being late five days in a row, a warning, that he'd not so easily intercepted, had been sent to his house. he knew his parents would be furious if they ever caught wind of this, and he was desirous that they stayed unaware.

deep in thought, the boy had failed to notice a crack in the walk. the tip of his sneaker caught in the crevice and slammed him to the hard, cold, pavement. his chin scraping unpleasantly.

"ugh," his eyes watered as pain seared through his chin.

"ah shit, mate. you ok?" a hand was offered down to the boy on the ground. he couldn't turn his head up to see who it was, so, feeling utterly defeated, he reached up and took the warm hand. the person pulled him up and bent down to scoop up his books, giving the boy a good look at the back of the person's head. thick, curly, and brown hair covered its surface.

"phil, right?" the other boy gently pushed the books into the boy's arms. he tentatively nodded. "does it hurt much?" phil got a look at startlingly emerald pigmented eyes filled with sympathy and kindness. phil then found his voice,

"yes, it hurts. quite a bit, actually." he barely whispered.

"i'll take you up the the nurses wing if you'd like." the green-eyed boy offered. phil nodded eagerly, not wanting to be alone. a contagious smile flooded over the green-eyed boy's face, "c'mon then!" he tugged phil gently by the arm and they walked together the few paces to their school.

as they stepped through the heavy double doors, all was quiet. phil let out a sigh, he was late. again.

"what's wrong? it's fine to be late, as long as you aren't a common offender, or does your chin hurt more?" the green-eyed boy asked in a quick strand of words.

"t-this isn't my first time being late." he repositioned the books in his arms.

"oh. i'm pj, by the way, if you didn't know." pj was a talker, phil observed. "we're almost there." he talked enough for both of them combined. "here we are! i hope you feel better, phil! oh! also, you'd be welcome to sit at lunch with me and chris, you know who chris is right?" they were in the wing now.

"yeah. he's your boyfriend, right?" phil said softly.

"yep!"

"if it's no trouble, i'd love to sit with you guys." phil squeezed the books tighter with anxiety.

"great! we'll see you then!" pj happily exclaimed, and skipped from the wing. phil let out a small sigh as he watched the happy-go-lucky green-eyed boy leave. he placed his books in one of the cubbys on the wall and walks through the door adjacent to them.

**

lunch period was definitely not phil's hotspot. bustling with teenagers of all sizes, genders, and personalities, phil was much more cordial with eating in the library, or not eating at all. frankly, he avoided the lunchroom at all costs. but, today was different. today, he had a significant reason to go in there. after two whole years of of being in the high school, for the first time someone had invited phil to have lunch with them. it warmed his heart, in which way, phil wasn't sure.

having dropped his books off at his locker, triple checked the money from his mum was still in his pocket, and gone around to every teacher to ask about the homework, he was out of excuses. time to be brave.

he exhaled a heavy breath, and pushed open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading this ^-^ I promise that it eventually does get better--and appologise that the first few chapters suck so much lol.


	2. ii. small boys, cereal

_it was one of those_ obnoxiously loud doors. the kind you want to rip off of its hinges after experiencing the earsplitting squeal that exploded from seemingly nowhere. phil cringed and snapped his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable laughter to ring out, but it seemed that it was all in his head or that it was just too damn loud to hear anything.

phil shuddered an outtake of breath and almost robotically moved his arm off the swinging door and stepped foreword. as he turned the corner, tremors of anxiety flooded through him and nausea swirled in the pit of his stomach. there were people everywhere. he'd known it was coming, but that didn't make him feel any less dreadful.

 _focus,_  he told himself,  _get lunch, find pj, socially interact._ phil didn't hate social interaction, but he sure as hell didn't enjoy it.

using the knowledge that he'd attract more attention if he just stood in the same spot like a twat, phil had managed to get to the kitchens and take a unflatteringly salmon colored tray in his clammy hands.

"kid, tray." phil shyly slid the tray onto the fake metal counter and grimaced as the sickening skinny woman plopped something unrecognizable to the human eye onto his tray.

"ugh, it's meatloaf day mate, i knew i should've packed." someone nudged phil's shoulder. he managed a shaky laugh and turned to the fruit when something caught his eye. a cereal bar. he was going foreword to trash the 'meatloaf' and get a bowl of pure heaven, when the same boy caught him by the arm,

"i wouldn't do that if i were you."

"why not?" phil didn't usually get defensive, but this was  _cereal_ for gods sake.

"it's closed. those ladies get really pissy when people take it, you must be new or something?" the boy rubbed a hand over his quiff and raised a brow behind his large framed glasses.

"no, i'm not new." phil said quietly and left the kitchens after scooping a large portion of a random fruit onto the tray. of course everyone would assume he was new. no one noticed the freakishly tall black-haired kid with the graphic shirts.

"hey! phil!" pj and a boy he recognized to be pj's significant other, chris kendall, sat at a table set far back against the left wall, waving frantically at him.

"your highness, we have been expecting you! welcome to the castle sir philip, i am sir christopher, king of fabulous hair and long dicks. what sayith you sir pj?" pj snorted, but chris maintained his regal manner.

"hey phil, what's up?" pj smiled and kicked chris under the table.

"bitch!" chris yelled, mock pouting and hugging his legs to his chest.

"hi. nothing much, i guess."

"how's your chin?" phil noticed that neither of the boys had any lunch.

"it's good, thanks again for taking me to the nurse this morning," phil rubbed the back of his neck, "aren't you guys going to eat anything?"

"i'm gonna eat that dick-"

"chris, shut the fuck up." pj's cheeks flushed pink. phil cracked a smile and noticed a small brown-haired boy in a mint green jumper sitting by himself over chris's shoulder.

"see! phil thinks i'm funny, don't you phil?" chris stuck his tongue out at pj and looked at phil.

"sure." phil grinned crookedly.

"oohhhhhhhhhh burn bitch!" pj stuck his tongue back of chris.

"oh c'mon you little pussy that wasn't even a roast."

"fight me."

"i'd rather fuck you."

"hey guys?" phil broke in.

"oops sorry, too vulgar?" pj but his lip and chris laughed.

"no, no you're good. i was just wandering who that is?" phil pointed to the small brown-haired boy behind chris. chris turned around and pj looked over to where phil was pointing.

"dan howell?" chris asked. phil shrugged, but pj nodded,

"yeah, short, pastel, cute a.f, that's dan alright."

"heyyyyyy, i'm cuter, right?" Chris whined.

"sure, whatever floats your goddamn boat. why the sudden interest in him, phil?"

phil found himself blushing for an unknown reason.

"i don't know. curiosity i suppose..." phil trailed off and chris smirked which earned him another kick from pj.

"if you fucking kick me one more fucking time, i will shove my fucking dick up your fucking ass against that goddamn wall!" chris screamed and pounded his fists on the table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh it's so cringey


	3. iii. misinterpertation, plague

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ew i forgot how bad this chapter was

_water was the most_ relaxing, therapeutic sensation known to man. that was true for some people, not everyone, and not near everyone, but some. dan howell was one of the people who preferred something above extensive, toasty showers; and that thing was art. when asked what kind of art he did, the reply most likely would have been something vague such as, 'a bit of this' or 'a bit of that.' dan didn't prefer to share his  _real_  talent with many people, but he loved to express himself with smaller,  _simpler_ things.

scrawled colored ink swirled and looped over his tan skinned surfaces. his earlobes were pierced with black circular studs, and he had been contemplating a nose piercing for a few days. he wore bright, pretty jumpers of all hues and shades, that he didn't mind being made fun of for. but most importantly, were his nails. he gave his nails the highest of priorities, royalty at its finest. and he didn't just paint them, he could do dozens of techniques; many of his own invention.

of course he was glared at like he was some sort of plague. males hated him for 'misinterpreting them' or some shit like that.

of course he was called a fag. how could someone act the way he does and not get the word spat at him? but why the hell does it matter if someone calls you what you are. dan howell was one hundred percent queer, and proud of it. and he'd tell you if you asked him. yell it from the rooftops even. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's also the shortest (wait that was a lie)
> 
> love u


	4. iv. breathtaking, absolutely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm.

_the holiday were_ coming up soon, and phil was excited. it was always great to spend time with family that he hadn't seen for months, sometimes even years. maybe, he could convince his mum to let him have pj and chris over.

but for now, he was stuck in the hell formerly known as high-school. being quite good at maths, phil felt no need to pay attention to what the rotund mid-50s man teaching. accompanied with swearing under his breath.

"hey," a small poke came from his left. phil turned to see the small brown-haired boy, he'd pointed out to chris and pj weeks ago, flicking his wrist with a bottle of nail varnish clasped in his thin fingers. "could i paint your nails?"

"u-um-"

"thanks." dan had already taken phil's left hand into his own small warm ones and twisted the lid of the clear lacquer, he'd been shaking, with one hand. phil watched the neat swipes of the brush against his nail with fascination. he'd never seen such careful, precise concentration with something as small as painting a nail. he'd seen girls quickly trying to scrub the color onto their nail, and glop it everywhere and make a huge mess. dan was the opposite. quick, precise, but beautiful.

"phil," a gentle tug on his shirt brought phil back to real life.

"w-what?" dan giggled and set the left hand, that phil saw no difference in but was too shy to ask what the cinnamon-eyed boy had been doing, down on the table.

"other hand," a cute smile slid onto dan's pretty features.

"oh, r-right," dan took phil's slightly shaking right hand and placed it on his knee which was covered by pale white skinny jeans. phil looked over dan instead of watching him paint his nails. today, dan's hair was straight, just as it was the last time he'd seen him, and the same black circles were pierced into the lobe of his ear. a light grey jumper covered his thin torso and the white flats that were on his feet, unlike the girls who wore them, were smudged and dirty. somehow it just made dan howell even more unique. but what caught phil's very breath away, were his nails. they were expertly done, and even phil knew that, with a perfectly painted leaf on each nail, each a different shade, each a different type. a beautiful backdrop of merged autumn colors behind each one and a coating of shimmery holographic particles over top.

phil looked up to his eyes. they were the most beautiful color of brown he'd ever seen. cinnamon, chocolate and caramel flecked with the lightest touch of pure gold.

dan howell was absolutely breathtaking. and he'd only said five words to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm x2.


	5. v. maths, panic

_"when did that_ happen?" pj's eyes widened as he gestured to phil's nails. chris merely raised a brow.

"uh," for some reason; phil felt compelled to lie and not mention the adorable cinnamon-eyed boy, "a girl in my art period painted them." he rushed the words out like a thick stream of water blasting from a jet.

"hot." chris smirked and leaned on his hand. pj nodded, but phil could tell he didn't buy it.

**

phil was one hundred percent not paying attention to any of his lessons for the rest of the day.

at first, he was immersed in staring at his nails that dan had done this morning whilst in maths.

then, he fell into sheer panic at the thought of how the hell he was going to get the polish off before he got home, in an hour. phil frantically picked up his pencil and tried to erase the smooth varnish, but that obviously was proving to be ineffective. he should've guessed. but phil knee absolutely nothing about nail polish, other than the fact that dan howell was amazing with it.

phil's eyes darted up to the round clock on the wall above the chalkboard. fifty minutes. he pulled his blue hoodie sleeve over his hand and raised it high.

"yes, mr. lester?"

"c-could i go to t-the toilets please?" phil stuttered.

"be back as soon as possible, this is important." he barely managed a nod as he left the classroom and locked himself in the teachers only cubicle.

frantically pumping soap into his hands, phil started the water and scrubbed his nails as hard as he could. hoping and praying it would work.

he rinsed off the soap and almost screamed. it was still there. bright and shiny as ever.

"shit! shit! shit!" phil kicked the door and paced the cramped space, scratching at the polish as a last attempt at getting the damned stuff off.

it began to flake off and phil's heart leaped in his chest. he scratched faster and eventually found a seat on the closed toilet lid.

phil had just finished getting the dried lacquer off his left hand when it occurred to him, that he had no idea how long he'd been in the bathroom.

he pulled out his phone and nearly leaped out of his skin. he had two minutes until the last bus left.

phil flung open the cubicle and raced down the hall to his class, where he ignored the teacher, gathered his books, and sped down the hall to his locker.

phil's pale fingers wouldn't turn the damn dial correctly no matter how many times he tried. and he needed no clock to know that the bus was gone. and he was left with no choice but to walk the cold two miles by himself.

throwing his materials on the floor, phil dug through his jeans pocket until he found the key. once the locker was open, phil shoved all of the books into his bag and pulled his gloves on. that solved that problem, for now.

**

"philip! is that you?" phil shivered at the contrast of hot air and cold winds and instantly shut the door behind himself, bathing in the warmth.

"yes." he replied simply, and slipped down the stairs to his room, wishing to avoid any other conflict with his parents for the time being.


	6. vi. scratch, scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of the phan fluff, i guess.

   _phil had been_ staring at the ceiling for the better part of two hours, and wasn't any closer to sleep than he was when he first laid down. he could faintly see outlines of everything around him, thanks to the thin beam of moonlight that had slipped through the crack in his blind and bathed the room with an ethereal glow. phil held up his hands, palms facing down, and stared at his nails. he'd managed to get the right hand cleaned off the same way he got the left side off. frantically scratching and peeling. his mum and dad hadn't mentioned anything about his nails, that was good.

no matter how he tried to reassure himself that no one except for dan howell, chris, pj and himself knew, he still couldn't sleep.

**

as he walked to maths, phil couldn't help but wonder if dan howell would ask to paint his nails again. he half hoped he would, and half hoped he wouldn't. phil found himself leaning toward dan asking if he could. he turned the corner and slipped through the door.

there he was. sitting in the back, wearing a magenta jumper and grey jeans. fringe neatly straight.

taking a shuddering exhale, phil walked through the room and sunk into his seat next to the cinnamon-eyed boy. dan didn't say anything to him as he sat, just zipped open a black pouch and took out the same clear varnish from the day before. phil froze, mind racing.

"nails?" he turned his beautiful eyes on phil, making his pale skin flush scarlet. again, dan didn't give the other much time to say anything at all before reaching out and taking his left hand in his own. he frowned and touched the pad of his finger to a nail. phil's heart stopped.

"you know, you really shouldn't scratch it off," he started offhandedly.

"i'm sorry, i—"

"just use remover next time," dan tilted his head and looked up into phil's eyes, "though, it was awfully sweet of you to try and clean your nails off beforehand so i wouldn't get in trouble for the smell." phil found himself nodding. he received a smile in return from the small boy.

"hm, perhaps it'd be best if i used a peel-off base coat instead." dan tapped a slender digit against his lips thoughtfully. phil didn't have the slightest idea what dan was going on about, but he decided that nodding was the way to go. "i'll stop rambling now." he decided, and set the old bottle back in the bag, fishing out a seemingly identical one. phil concluded he knew even less than he thought he did about this field.

the class started as dan was in progress of applying the "peel-off base coat". the man instructing did not seem to notice, so phil focused on watched the neat swipes of the brush over each of his nails.

after the clear polish had been applied, dan looked through his bag again, this time coming up with a bottle of white lacquer. he snapped his wrist gently a few times and unscrewed the lid before putting an opaque layer over the base coat. dan worked fast. too fast for phil's nail-unexperienced brain to comprehend. why dan was putting a think layer of some sort of polish around his cuticles and around the nail, was a mystery to phil.

dan had a triangular sponge out that he was now painting lines across with a dark red at the base, a blood red in the center, and a light red, that was almost pink, at the top. he pressed the sponge over a nail and wiggled it gently back and fourth. when he removed it, phil was utterly confused. what the hell was the point of that? make his finger a mess? he'd certainly succeeded in that factor.

dan continued pressing the pattern on each nail, replenishing the color when needed, making a grotesque-looking mess in his wake. phil remained quiet, dan was touching him. it didn't matter what he did as long as he got the warm gentle touch of dan's tanned skin against his own.

"mr. howell! why don't you enlighten the class with the answer?" all attention was now on the two boys in the back of the class with matching haircuts. phil flushed for the second time in thirty minutes.

"y=8x+27" dan spoke, not looking up from his work, nor missing a beat.

the man instructing did not seem to mind dan got the correct answer and continued on the the lesson.

the cinnamon-eyed boy set down his sponge and selected a pair of tweezers from his pouch. phil visibly flinched. he despised tweezers, his father used to dig out splinters with them and make the young boy watch. 

"it's ok," the small boy soothed, "i won't hurt you." dan took phil's free hand in his own. he took the tweezers and pinched. phil snapped his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable sharp pain of whatever dan was doing. but it didn't come.

phil cautiously opened his eyes and his mouth rounded to an 'o'. dan hadn't used the tweezers to dig something from under his skin, he'd used them to remove the layer of protective polish he'd put around his nail. the result was beautiful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realized that i forgot to mention that this was written along the course of me being lazy and updating extremely sparatically and it's still not done after almost a year lmao.


	7. vii. zero, felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a poem

   _"pj, i'm going_ to one hundred percent honest with you right now." phil raised his brows slightly at the boy, "that is super ass wrong." pj cackled so hard he fell onto his side.

"it's always hilarious when you swear, phil!" he spluttered between laughs, "you have no idea how to use them!"

"that was zero percent amusing." chris snapped, his mouth ironed in a straight line. from the moment the words passes through chris' lips, pj didn't laugh again the entire day.

**

phil eyed the boy from across the table and noted how quiet he was. chris was never quiet. always cracking some shitty dirty jokes or lame puns.

pj was looking at his lap and picking at a thread in his black jeans.

"'m going to the toilets." chris muttered and left.

"pj," the black-haired boy started hesitantly, "are you and chris ok?" he asked the same question he'd been asking the curly-haired boy for days, pausing slightly after the forrest-eyed boy's name.

phil's hesitation to utter the five simple words proved to be valid as pj seemed to shrink when his boyfriend's name was mentioned. phil expected pj to brush it off and change the subject as he had the past seven times, but instead, tears pooled in the corner of his eyes and he caught his lip between his teeth.

"you keep asking me phil, and at first i-it wasn't tha-at bad," he paused to wipe his eyes and nose, "b-but now, it-it-it's been getting s-s-so much w-w-w-worse! phil, i d-don't k-k-k-know wh-what t-to d-d-do," he broke into choked sobs and tears drained from his eyes like a leaky pipe. "i love h-him s-s-so much-h a-and, i'm so-o-o—" he fell into phil's chest and sobbed into his jumper.

"shhh," the blue-eyed boy awkwardly patted his broken friend on the back as the blue material of his shirt got increasingly dampened. "i'm sure he's just struggling with something that doesn't have anything to do with you, peej, i've seen the way you guys look at each other, he loves you, i know he does!" he rambled, trying to think of anything to help the broken boy.

"i'm being-g a f-fucking l-little b-b-bitch." pj sobbed harder.

"no you're not, mate. it's perfectly normal to cry." phil looked up to see a blue-eyed boy with blond hair on the sides and a slightly faded green on the top.

"f-felix, w-why are y-y-you here?" pj turned up to face the green-haired boy with watery eyes.

"why wouldn't i be here when a friend is sad?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a b c d e f u   
> i am cringing  
> wbu


	8. viii. tiles, transparent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what i lied about.

_"i'm really sorry,_ peej," phil really wasn't sure what else to say to the curly-haired boy. he clenched his lip between his teeth and his light eyebrows drew together with worry.

"it's really not your fault, phil." pj's voice was raspy. barely a whisper.

the green dyed blond haired boy phil was introduced to as felix was rubbing pj's back soothingly as the three of them sat on the cold, gross, bathroom tile in a oblong circle. felix hadn't said anything as to how he knew pj, or why he was even there for that matter. phil hadn't seen the blue-eyed boy around the campus anywhere, and he had plenty of time to observe. he was practically invisible to everyone. phil was too shy and didn't think that it was his place to ask how the two had met or what the hell felix was doing here, because pj had calmed down a significant amount since felix had arrived the in the cafeteria. and phil didn't think it was his place to ask. 

felix looked over at phil and the two made eye-contact. blue eyes looking directly into each other. 

phil felt awkward, and looked away pointedly at the grimy floor. he could feel felix's gaze smoldering into the side of his head, but he didn't angle his line of sight back up to the other boy. phil picked at a loose thread on his jeans and listened to the whirring of the vents spinning cold air into the facility. 

no one spoke, it seemed like a transparent giant of some sort  had pulled a blanket of silence over the three. they didn't mind, really. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops


	9. ix. textbook, crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is when the shit hits the fan, my dudes

_chris flipped open_  the textbook sat in front of him that phil had just noticed. the forest-eyed boy let out a frustrated groan and leaned on his hand as he stared down at the fine print.

pj noticed phil looking and said quietly, "he's got an exam next period."

"he never cared about that before," phil put out his right hand, palm facing up, "how's this one any different?"

"it could make or break him passing this year, and he'd never get to twelfth year until getting a passing grade." pj bit his lip, "he would rather pass it this year—"

"you know, i'm right here, don't you? i can fucking hear you!" chris snapped his head up from the book, dark green eyes filled with fury and nostrils flaring. he slammed his textbook shut and flung it as hard as he could across the room. a girl's scream sounded as it hit someone with a sickening smack. chris violently pushed out of his seat and stormed from the lunch hall. the room was dead silent. it all seemed to happen in an instant.

phil immediately got up and ran across the cafeteria to the person who got hit with chris' book. he pushed past the small crowd that had formed and sunk to his knees at her side. she had black waves lying around her head like a dark halo and a deep gash across her left cheek, spreading up to her left temple. he couldn't see what color her eyes were, as they were closed.

phil's eyes were wide and his mouth was open in absolute shock. from chris and the fact that somehow a book had done this to a girl.

suddenly, someone was beside him, slim, familiar, fingers gently brush back the girl's dark locks from the left side of her face.

phil looked up and saw dan rip away a large section of his white jumper and turn to face him. "get her head off the ground for a second," his voice was strained. phil bit his lip, nodded and propped the girl's head up with his knees. he steadied her by placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. the girl let out a soft groan of pain at the movement.

all was dead silent as dan's slender fingers wrapped the section of the girl's face with the white material, the blood immediately staining its pristine plainness. he secured the bandage and leaned gently against phil. he felt himself flush.

an instructor raced into the dead-silent room and pushed her way through the crowd.

"w-who did this?" the woman bent down and scooped the girl up from in front of dan and phil. "who hurt my daughter?!" tears streamed from the woman's cerulean eyes that were filled with fury.

her daughter?

"christopher kendall!" someone's voice rang out, "he threw his book across the room and it hit tana!" a broken sob slipped from the instructor's red lips as she ran from the room.

the cafeteria slowly emptied, one by one, all the students filed out until it was just dan and phil. dan put his full weight, which admittedly wasn't very much, against phil and buried his head into phil's chest with a small lurch. phil opened his mouth in a silent gasp and slowly put his arms around the cinnamon-eyed boy's small frame.

he started to shake and phil felt his t-shirt being damped.

dan was,  _crying_.


	10. x. stop, trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will provide clarification in the end note.

_"dan! don't forget_ to take out the trash when you get home!" the short boy bounded out of his house, completely ignoring his mother's reminder. he was much too eager to be hindered by such a mere thing as chores. not when she was waiting! he rounded a corner, small heart beating frantically in his chest as he skidded to a halt.

"dan!" a girl with black wavy hair and bright blue eyes bounced up and down, waving her manicured hands at the short boy frantically.

"tana!" the brown-eyed boy skipped toward her, pushing past the wave of exhaustion from running. he wrapped his arms tightly around her middle and squeezed tightly.

"hey there, shortstuff, don't want to be suffocating me now!" she giggled to dan, as he let go and smiled up at her.

tana wasn't over the average height for being eight years old, but dan sure was under it. at just about fifty inches tall, dan howell was considered by his friends and family as, "fun size." he really didn't mind, being short was fun! small places that begged to be explored, almost anyone could pick him up, and people didn't expect him to pack so much of a punch! it was great!

tana was about ten inches taller than dan, but that didn't matter. they were still the best of friends.

**

"dan, sweetie, tana can't make it tonight," the woman bent down to her son's level and stroked his curly hair.

dan's lower lip trembled, "w-why not?" he asked his mother.

"she's got the flu, baby." the tears in his eyes evaporated and his lip stilled.

"mummy, can we go see her?" he tugged at his mother's arm as he attempted to drag her from the kitchen.

"i'm sorry, danny, she's contagious. you don't want to be sick, do you?" the curly-haired woman pulled her son onto her lap as she sat on the floor, upright against the stove.

dan scrunched up his face, deep in thought. "no," he said finally.

"i assumed so,"

**

 **zatana!:**  
im sorry, dan.

 **dan** **❀** **:**  
i told you im not mad

not at you

not at anyone

 **zatana!:**  
it doesnt changed the fact that im  sorry.

its all my fault, and you know that.

 **dan** **❀** **:**  
you didnt ask for it to happen even if you were the one who did it

no one knew it would go so far

 **zatana!:**  
i didnt deserve someone like you in my life, dan.

im selfish.

horrible.

 **dan** **❀** **:**  
stop saying those things about yourself tana, theyre not true

 **zatana!:**  
see.

even though i hurt you, youre still an absolute angel to me!

why?!

 **dan** **❀** **:**  
it doesnt cost anything at all to be a nice person

 **zatana!:**  
and thats the thing, dan. the thing that separates you from everyone else in the world! even when people hurt you to the point where youre crying, you shower them with compliments. bathe them with love!

i dont deserve your love and compassion. im fucking horrible and so damn cruel it tears my heart apart!

please just stop trying with me!

 **dan** **❀** **:**  
you can pretend like i dont exist, but ill always love you. even though you almost destroyed me.

_read on may sixteenth, 2014_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first two sections were portions that took place awhile before everything, when tana & dan were still friends. the texting was very overdramatic for what actually happens later, but i didn't actually have a plan when i wrote this part i appologise for everything lmao.


	11. xi. whores cat, best friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of this is banter from before the biggest shit of them all hits the fan.

_march twenty-ninth, 2014_

**tana☻:**  
hey !!

hows my favorite love bug?

 **danny kitten** **♡** **:**  
:) v good

 **tana☻:**  
yay !

what have u been up 2 since last week?

 **danny kitten** **♡** **:**  
nothing really, some schoolwork

we shouldnt be discussing my miserable life! how was vay cay?!

 **tana☻:**  
HOLY FUCK, danny, it was g8

lotsa hot dudes;))

 **danny kitten** **♡** **:**  
get any cheeky pics of them?

 **tana☻:**  
naw, sorry :(

i wanna ask if i can bring u w/ us next year !!!

then u can oh so subtly stare at their asses irl

 **danny kitten** **♡** **:**  
sign me tf up

 **tana☻:**  
ill ask during dinner gtg, love !

 **danny kitten** **♡** **:**  
buh bye!

**

_march thirty-first, 2014_

**dan** **ツツツ** **:**  
exams can suck my dick

 **batana:**  
^me if i had 1

 **dan** **ツツツ** **:**  
i wanta bf

so bad it hurts:((

 **batana:**  
u ok, boo ?

 **dan** **ツツツ** **:**  
ye

jus want love

want someone to hug

want someone to tell me how pretty i am

want someone to cuddle

want someone to snuggle

want someone to take long steamy showers and baths with

want kisses

ok so maybe im not ok :(

 **batana:**  
hold on bunny, ill be over in 5

 **dan** **ツツツ** **:**  
thank

**

_april twenty-third, 2014_

**tanager:**

ur just so smol & cute wtf ??!

 **danisvgay:**  
when ur tryin to be all emo and it fails drastically

 **tanager:**  
¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**

_april_ _twenty-seventh, 2014_

**danni :**  
tana tana tana tana

 **tanni:**  
ye ye ye ye

 **danni:**  
i got stung by a bee

 **tanni:**  
its april

in england

wht

 **danni:**  
idk but it hurts like a bitch

 **tanni:**  
rip, cutie

**

_april twenty-ninth, 2014_

**taba** ➴➶ **:**  
the @ started as a mis type but im kinda feelin it

 **dab:**  
aye

 **taba** ➴➶ **:**  
jfc did u just change ur @

 **dab:**  
its a possibility ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **taba** ➴➶ **:**  
actually, eat a dick

 **dab:**  
actually, i wouldnt mind that

**

_may sixth, 2014_

**my name is tana not hanna:**  
oooh, baby cant u see

 **danisnotstraight:**  
i cant c im blind plz halp

 **my name is tana not hanna:**  
ok, isaac

 **danisnotstraight:**  
that was uncalled for !!1!11!!im tRiGgErEDd!1!!1!1!1!!!11111!!

 **my name is tana not hanna:**  
omg

 **danisnotstraight:**  
but when he egged his exes car like yis son slay that whores cat

oMf

*car

 **my name is tana not hanna:**  
oh my god im crying "yis son slay that whores cat" —dan howell 2k14

 **danisnotstraight:**  
end my suffering

**

_may tenth, 2014_   
_[6:24 am]_

dan howell stifled a yawn as he sat up in bed and he laced his fingers together. the brown-haired boy stretched his arms out in order to pop his back. he pushed back the duvet and slid off his mattress as he padded over to his wardrobe.

he caught sight of himself in the mirror and giggled. the brunette always thought he looked silly in the morning with his messy hair, glazed over eyes and just in general ruffled appearance. he pulled the oversized mint green shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor before slipping a pastel pink jumper.

dan dug through his wardrobe drawers, looking for his lavender skinny jeans he loved with a passion.

he sighed and grabbed a black pair, concluding juliet must've tossed them in the wash as he wore them quite frequently. he was running his fingers through his partially straight hair when he heard his phone chime and he trotted over to where it was charging against the wall.

**_tana_ ** _has sent you a kik message !_

dan smiled at the sight of his best friend's name and unlocked his phone.

 **tana:**  
hey .. dan ?

he frowned, hoping she was ok, and typed out a reply.

 **dan.exe:**  
yeah?

he could see that she'd read the message but it'd been several minutes and she hadn't replied. dan shrugged to himself and buttoned his jeans, turned back to the wardrobe mirror. he should straighten his hair, he'd regret it if he didn't.

just as dan was plugging in the iron, his phone chimed again.

**_tana_ ** _has sent you a kik message !_

**tana:**  
never mind.

was she ok? dan caught his lip between his teeth.

 **dan.exe:**  
tana? whats wrong?

 **tana:**  
nothing

nothing his ass.

 **dan.exe:**  
cut the crap, tana. whats wrong

_read at 6:39 am_   
_[may 10, 2014]_

the brown-haired boy pushed his hands through his hair in frustration. he'd have to see her at school and pry it out of her there.

he wandered back to his iron and clamped a strand of his hair between it, pulling it to the tips.

she'd have to talk to him, he was her best friend.


	12. xii. chelsea, crumple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING** Homophobic Slurs/Bashing & Blood & Violence.

_may tenth, 2014_   
_[7:00 am]_

 

 _while he usually_ took the bus, dan had opted to walk to school. he wanted to have a clear mind and feel the fresh cold mid-spring air ruffle through his straightened hair, something like a loving pat an uncle would give.

dan re-shouldered his messenger bag and twisted the dusty lavender strap in his un-manicured fingers. it was an oddity for dan's nails to be plain, but he hadn't felt like painting them the night before, like he usually did. he'd had a killer headache and the fumes from the varnishes sure as hell weren't going to help that out.

dan stopped on the walkway and closed his eyes. he tilted his head back, and took a deep breath, allowing the cool air to siphon through his lungs in an effort to somehow reassure himself that tana was okay. he opened his eyes and continued walking the last few paces to the ever-dreaded middle school. was dan ever glad that he'd be heading to the high school next year.

from the moment he walked through the front entrance, he knew something was off. he walked through the halls noting how everyone seemed to be looking at him surreptitiously, out of the corner of their eyes. when he'd glance at them, they'd quickly snap their head around and frantically tried to look as though they weren't just staring at him. while it wasn't abnormal for people to stare at dan, they usually didn't seem to care if he—or anyone else for that matter—caught them looking at him. and for some reason, that bothered him.

he looked down at his clean white converse as he quietly made his way to his locker. he peered through his fringe, searching the not-so-subtly staring crowd for tana. her locker was remotely nearby his own, hopefully she'd still be there and he could talk to her. maybe that would make him feel a little less odd.

it was oddly quiet in the building, a few hissed whispers made the back of dan's neck prickle and his head ache.

he wanted it to be loud, that was usual. normal. everyday. what had changed over the weekend? did he forget to straighten a section of his hair? were his clothes dirty? did he smell weird?

dan felt dizzy as he trekked up the staircase to the second level. he wanted to curl up in a corner and hide. hide from all the sharp glares penetrating straight into the back of his skull. his head throbbed. his stomach ached.

he reached the top and then it all stopped as suddenly as it had started. long black waves of hair caught in his peripheral vision. periwinkle-blue eyes. his head snapped up. tana.

he practically flew across the floor and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pressing his face into her chest, breathing in her familiar, comforting scent. he could feel her arms tremble and her fingers twitch as she tentatively accepted the shorter boy's embrace. dan let a breath of relief settle over himself. he had nothing to worry about. tana was fi—

"ew! tana, oh my god, why the hell is that fag touching you?!" the shrill voice of chelsea mcclaine shrieked, shattering the thick silence dan had been struggling through moments before.

tana immediately retracted her arms from around the brunet and shoved him back away from her. hard.

had he been taller or heavier, the force of the thin female's shove wouldn't have done much, but dan was abnormally small, and the force of the shove caused him to go careening down the set of stairs and get partially stuck in the banister railing.

a female's sharp gasp and chelsea's scoff were the only sounds heard as the high-heeled girl clicked delicately down the stairs to where the small boy was sprawled out. she knelt down and only dan and chelsea herself could hear what she hissed into his ear before she kicked him furiously off the railing where he crumpled at the landing of the basement stairs with a sound that made everyone in the vicinity flinch.

_"i hope this fucking kills you, go burn in hell already you miserable little faggot."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;(


	13. xiii. lavender, what have i done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im listening to silvagunner's Snow halation - Love Live! School idol festival ~after school ACTIVITY~ help me
> 
> it's sad, but i don't think anything too triggering happens

_may tenth, 2014_   
_[7:17 am]_

_the black-haired_ girl was paralyzed. frozen in shock. she hadn't moved from the spot she had raced to after gasping, leaning over the top rail of the staircases to where dan howell lay crumpled two flights down.

_what the fuck had she done._

chelsea mcclaine flounced up the set of stairs as kelsi couger and shelby shakira immediately snapped to her sides.

tana looked up as chelsea, kelsi, and shelby clicked toward her.

"christ, tana, i can't believe that fag actually touched you! he actually had the nerve to nose his homosexual arse over to your locker and wrap his little faggot arms around you—"

tana stopped listening and ran as far away as she could from the overdeveloped blonde barbie and out of the school building. down the streets as far as her legs could carry her. she ran until she was shuddering from the way her lungs screamed for a breath. she sunk to her knees in the middle of the uncrowded street.

_what have i done._

**

chris kendall had been to the direct left of the girl who yanked her phone out of her too-tight jeans pocket and called nine-nine-nine for an ambulance.

he was close enough to the flight of concrete stairs sloping down to the basement that he could see the small boy curled up the base of them, unmoving. his left leg was twisted up at a nasty angle and crimson blood pooled around him. from where, chris couldn't tell.

**

the instructors that had been snoozing in their classrooms until the bell rang, stumbled out after the sound rang out and no students were present. they crowded around the mass of students, some sobbing, some screaming, some clutching onto their friend desperately.

the first instructor to get through the hoard of students let out a scream and promptly fainted just above the flight of concrete stairs.

no one made a movement to go down to the brown-haired boy crumpled just outside the locked basement door.

heads whipped around to a loud wailing of sirens and made way for the men hurrying through the front doors bearing a white stretcher and a pale cotton blanket resting on top of it.

they settled the boy onto the stretcher and settled the blanket over him, the red of his blood saturating the thin cover.

and just as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. and silent.

**

_may thirteenth, 2014_   
_[2:39 pm]_

the regular beepingof the machine brought the small brunette boy up from the depths of unconsciousness, blinking his sticky eyes and squinting around the white room.

where was he? it didn't look like his room, or anywhere in his house for that matter.

his body felt heavy and his head was splitting with the force of a pounding headache.

the brown-eyed boy was hooked up to several machines he had no clue as to what they were. he didn't think he quite liked them if they the cause of him feeling so peculiar.

dan sluggishly made a movement to tug the cords out his body. his arm felt strange, he couldn't feel it, it was chilled and tingles ran through it as he moved it.

a young woman with blonde hair wandered into the room. she was staring down at a clipboard and looked up and dropped the clipboard as she raced to dan's side.

"no! honey, don't pull that out!" she cupped her hands protectively around the cords and wires poking out of his body at odd angles.

"w-why not-t?" his throat felt scratchy and it hurt to use it, "it's makin' me-e feel f-funny." he blinked up at the blonde woman a few times and she stroked his hair away from his eyes.

"darling, these are helping you get sustenance and medicine. you've only just woken up and we needed to give you painkillers and food while you were out." she sat down on the edge of his bed and patted his cold hand.

dan's finger twitched, "why am i here? what's wrong with me?"

the woman's face crinkled up in worry, "do you not remember? it didn't show up you had a concussion," she hurried over to pick up the clipboard she'd dropped and trailed a red acrylic nail down it. "why don't you get s'more rest, hun? i think a nap'll do you wonders." she brushed her pink matte lips over the boy's forehead. before she left she adjusted a dial on the one of the many blinking and beeping machines hooked up to the small boy and gave him a smile. "sweet dreams,"

**

_may thirteenth, 2014_   
_[5:22 pm]_

"mrs. howell, i assure you, your son will be just fine, i spoke to him a few hours ago, and he's feeling good."

"i can't believe s-someone could be so horrible to do s-something like t-that to m-my sweet d-dan! he's just a darling t-to everyone, i swear!"

"mum?" the small form swaddled in the white bedsheets asked timidly.

"danny? oh, baby, are you ok?" the short curly-haired woman hustled to her son's side, stroking his matted hair and kissing all over his face.

"mum, get off me, i'm alright, i think."

"what do you mean 'you think'?" her chocolate eyes widened as they combed over her son's tiny form.

"ms. howell, i encourage you to calm down. dan is just fine, his head might hurt a bit, but we have him on some painkillers," the blonde nurse bit her pink lip as her brows crinkled up, "but he's also got quite a nasty broken leg."

dan's mum broke into another round a heavy sobs at this, while dan looked down at his left leg that was strung up in a little swing that hung from the ceiling and wrapped tightly in white material.

"could i have a lavender cast?" he questioned the blonde nurse.

"yes, of course, darling," she left the room and dan looked over at his mother.

"mum, it's alright," he attempted to comfort his mother as he chewed on his lip. he was thinking of tana. sweet, lovely, kind, tana. tana that wouldn't hurt a fly. tana that had been acting particularly odd the last few days.  _tana who shoved him down a flight of stairs_. 


	14. xiv. pick up, angel

_may sixteenth 2014_   
_[2:31 am]_

_he'd heard_ that he was being discharged today. after practically three days of laying in the pure white room, on the creamy cotton sheets, staring at the glossy white ceiling panels, dan was finally allowed going to be allowed to go home.

he looked down at the lavender cast suffocating his left leg and a smile stretched across his pale, thin face. somehow the color brought happiness to the boy; no matter where he was.

nearly the entire time dan was in the hospital, he had politely refused all offers for company the blonde nurse, juliet, had given him. he had just wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

juliet had been so lovely to dan throughout his stay: given him everything he asked for, sneaking him in home cooked meals, (the hospital food was horrid, they both agreed) little chocolates, and even retrieved his dusty lavender messenger bag from the school. she'd washed it before bringing to him yesterday and apologized profusely for the blood stains she couldn't get out. dan had interrupted her rambles; wrapping his thin arms around her and nuzzled his face into her stomach with a soft  _thank_   _you_.

he pressed a small blue button on the side of his bed and settled back into the pale pillows, waiting.

it was only a minute later when his door burst open and juliet stumbled through, her blonde ringlets falling out of a messy bun, "are you alright, dan? what do you need, darling?" she let out a yawn and hurried to his side.

dan giggled, "i'm sorry for waking you up, juliet."

juliet tipped her head to the side, "it's alright, believe me, i'm hella used to it," she pushed her bangs back as the brunette boy let out another giggle. she gave him a sideways grin, "what are laughing about mr. gigglebox?"

"you look so sleepy and i feel bad, but not enough for me to not laugh about how silly you look." he whispered slyly, his thin lips forming into a smirk.

"hey, you don't look so hot, yourself," juliet settled herself by dan's feet, "but for real, why'd ya press the button?"

"oh, i was just wondering if you knew where my phone was? i thought i brought it to school with me, but it's not in my bag." he frowned over at the lavender fabric laid on the white chair beside his bed.

"hmm, we'll ring your mum when it's not two-in-the-morning. i don't think she'd be very happy with us for that."

"no, i don't think she would," dan agreed, "i just wanted to ring my friend."

"well, you can use my cell in the morning to ring your mum and your friend, how's that sound?" juliet asked, standing up and walking to door.

dan smiled, "thank you, juliet,  good nig— er, morning?"

"sweet dreams," she giggled and blew a kiss, shutting the door behind her.

**

_may sixteenth 2014_   
_[11:21 pm]_

_"hi! you've reached the voice mail of tana nox! i can't get to the phone right now; leave a message after the beep!"_

dan ended the third ring he had placed to tana's number and turned to juliet with a frown painted across his features, "she's not picking up."

"maybe she just doesn't recognize my number! why don't you ring your mum and see if you left your phone there?" juliet offered, combing through one of her cabinets.

dan knew damn well that tana always picked up her phone—no matter who was ringing her—but he nodded feebly to the young woman and typed his mother's number into the keypad.

 _"'ello?"_ his mother's voice filtered through the speaker.

"hi mum, it's dan—"

 _"oh baby, it's so good to hear from you! are you alright? where are you ringing from?"_ she interrupted the petite boy.

"'m ringing you from juliet's phone, and i was wondering if i left my phone in my room, it's not in my bag."

 _"uhm, let me check sweetheart,"_ dan and juliet could hear the woman moving throughout the house,  _"oh! here it is! you left it plugged in, would you like me to drop it by?"_

juliet put down the file she was looking through, and motioned to dan to hand her the phone.

"actually, ms. howell, dan is being discharged today and if you could come and sign him out, he's all ready to head home." the blonde woman bit her lip—hard.

 _"how wonderful! i'm on my way now!"_ the line cut but juliet didn't lower the phone from her ear. she just bit down on her lip harder.

"juliet? are you alright?" dan leaned forward on the red couch; reaching for his crutches.

the woman didn't move.

"juliet?" dan crutched himself over to her side and pulled himself up onto her lap, letting the crutches fall to the ground with a clatter that seemed to wake the young woman up.

"i–i'm alright, honey," moisture pooled up in the corners of her hazel irises. she unclenched her teeth and hissed in pain as a small trickle of blood leaked from the cut.

dan buried his head into her neck, "don't be upset, i'll come and visit you loads! and have mum have you over for dinner and stuff." dan quietly consoled the young woman.

"y–you are s–such an angle, d–dan h–h–howell. some boy is g–going to t–thank his lucky s–stars every day f–for s–s–such a gift from g–god," she wept, tightening her grip on the small boy in her arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will admit that i teared up after i re-read the ending of this


	15. xv. carlton, contacts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING** Features Death & Crying

_may twenty-eighth 2014_   
_[7:39 pm]_

  not a single notification had popped up on dan's phone since tana's final apology on the day he got discharged from the hospital. he didn't have anyone in his contacts other than his mother, tana, and juliet. who'd want to text him anyway?

the closest he got to socially interacting was when juliet skyped him. the young woman had cleared out a space in her busy schedule every day to talk with him; and dan loved her to pieces for it.

he hadn't been back to school since the day chelsea and tana pushed him down the stairs, and his mother intends him never to again. she has taken him out of the middle school and hired a private tutor that came to their house three days a week—an elderly man named mark. while mark is extremely kind, dan finds himself missing the old building with the cruel kids, and the teachers that smoked on their lunch breaks. somehow it was better than being held up in his house all day.

dan looked up at the grandfather clock from his spot on the couch. his mum was currently out purchasing dinner for the two—but she had been for the past hour. it couldn't be taking her that long to buy the food and bring it home —could it? 

dan was just turning back to his show when the doorbell chimed. dan's face lit up, she must've just forgotten her keys! he gingerly sat up and made his way to the heavy wooden door, prepared to see his mother's smiling face. he flung it open and his expression morphed into one of confusion.

"can i help you, sir?" the petite brunette boy asked the policeman that had a look of sorrow painted across his stiff features.

"are you daniel howell?" the man asked.

"y–yes, that's me." he replied, licking his chapped lips anxiously.

"daniel, i'm not sure how to tell you this—" the man hesitated and bent down to encase the small boy in his arms.

dan awkwardly accepted the man's embrace without knowing what it was for; but what came next caused dan to latch onto the policeman with a grip like steel and completely freeze.

"—your mother got into a horrible car accident a half-hour ago. she is no longer with us, son."

**

_may twenty-eight 2014_   
_[9:30 pm]_

juliet caraway was driving home from the hospital when she received the ring. she glanced down to notice the unknown caller id, and swiped right to answer the call.

"hello, juliet caraway speaking,"

"hello miss. caraway; this is officer wells. i'm here with daniel howell and calling you on account of the fact you are the contact daniel has provided us with. his mother is no longer with us." a man's thick voice echoed from the speaker.

the blonde woman froze, "pardon?"

"daniel howell's mother has been in a fatal car accident and you are the number he has given to us, is this juliet caraway?" the man re-stated.

"y—yes, i am. what do you need to me to do? is dan alright?" worry, fear, and anxiety rattled in her head like marbles.

"could you please come and pick up mr. howell? perhaps he'd be more comfortable staying with you than at the police station tonight."

"yes sir, i'm on my way." juliet ended the ring and shakily set her phone down. did that really just happen? has she really just gotten off the phone with a police officer telling her that dan's mother had died? dan didn't deserve that! he was barely getting over his best friend ignoring him and a severely broken leg! dan howell was an angel, he didn't deserve to have any of that happen to him! was she having some sort of twisted nightmare?

juliet turned onto dan's road and drove up toward his house. sure enough, there was a police cruiser parked in the small boy's driveway. this was indeed reality. a very twisted reality, but reality nonetheless.

she fumbled to turn the key from the ignition; and sat, unmoving. she sifted her eyes across the dashboard and front window turning down to rest her head in her hands.

her hands moved without her consent, and before she knew it, she found herself standing before the painted wood with a fist poised barely an inch from its surface. she breathed out, releasing a thin funnel of heated air from between her pale pink lips; and knocked. twice. two short, sharp knocks.

the door swung open to reveal a thin, tall man with sharp pale green eyes and closely shaven red hair. he wore a navy blue uniform with pearl white buttons and a silver badge pinned over his left breastbone.

"hello," juliet croaked as the man's eyes skillfully surveyed her, "i'm juliet caraway, i received a ring that dan howell's mother has passed and i was who was told to be rung..." she trailed off, awkwardly, unsure of how to continue.

"officer carlton wells, m'am. i was the one to ring you. please step inside, i'm sure daniel will be more than happy to see you; and it sure is cold out there tonight." the man spoke, placing a hand gently on her back as she passed through the doorway.

"who gave you my number?" juliet asked carlton, scanning the sitting room for the familiar head of curly, brown hair. seeing nothing, she frowned.

"daniel. it took awhile for him to calm down and form a logical sentence, but when he finally managed to, it was 'call juliet'. then he opened up your contact on his phone and curled into a ball and wouldn't say or do another thing."

"where is he now?" the blonde woman inquired the lanky man, fixing him with a tight-lipped frown.

the officer angled his index finger up the set off stairs off the to far left of the room, "up there."

before carlton could get another word out, juliet was across the room, and going up the stairs two at a time.

"dan? angel?" she called, peering into the open doorways, stopping front of one that was closed. "honey? you in there?" she gently pushed open the door and moved in. the room was mostly bare, a few piles of clean laundry stacked neatly on the dresser, the walls painted a milky white. the bed was neatly made, with its purple duvet pulled up over the two cotton-white pillows. and there, tucked under several blankets, sniffling and whimpering, was dan howell.

 


	16. xvi. skip with me, sore subjects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . and we're back to present storyline 
> 
> enjoy the cheeky phan hurt/comfort & fluff

_dan was,_ crying _._ the precious, pastel, nail polish wearing, boy was crying. phil's heart ached as he attempted to comfort him, stroking his flattened hair soothingly. he wasn't sure how to go about comforting dan. he wasn't sure if he just wanted a shoulder to cry on, or if he wanted the taller boy to ask him what was wrong. who had the girl who had gotten hit by chris's book been to dan? what had made the small boy so upset over a girl that phil had never seen dan interact with—let alone seen anywhere for that matter?

dan sniffled and pulled his head away from phil's chest as he murmured a faint apology. he bunched the long sleeves of his oversized jumper around his hands to make sweater paws, rubbing his face with them.

"i-i don't mind, dan, my shirt'll dry..." phil started awkwardly; looking sideways at dan. the petite boy didn't respond, but simply peered out from behind his caramel pigmented hair, deep chocolate irises—rimmed with red—blinking up at him. he bit his chapped pink lips and released the bunches of his jumper from his fists slowly.

phil tentatively reached for one of dan's hands and noted how cold they were. pleased when the smaller boy let him, he started down at the slender digits and noticed for the first time that dan's nails were bare.

"why aren't your nails done?" the black-haired boy directed his gaze back up to dan's, surprised to see him gazing right back.

dan climbed into phil's lap, staring directly into phil's own bright eyes. the taller boy let out a thin gasp of astonishment.

dan spoke again, his voice thick and syrupy, "you have such lovely eyes, phil," dan reached his free hand up to brush back the dusky fringe that partially obscured a startlingly blue eye, "you could almost go swimming in them." dan's breath was warm against phil's neck as he leaned closer, "do you wear contacts?"

"y-yes,"

dan hummed thoughtfully, "then is this your natural eye color?"

"yes, it is."

"pretty," dan mused again, leaning away; to phil's dissatisfaction.

"are-are you ok, dan?" phil's question hung thickly in the air. the brunette visibly flinched, catching his lip once again between his teeth.

"not really, no." he finally answered, "but i'll be fine." the petite boy had a faraway look in his deep-brown irises. the sound of the bell ringing loudly from outside the cafeteria brought him back with a start. he sat up instantaneously and pulled phil up beside him with surprising strength. "i don't want to be here anymore. skip with me?"

phil already knew his answer from the moment those big chocolatey irises locked onto him, "of course." 

**

juliet caraway was twenty-two years old. twenty-two and a part-time nurse. twenty-two and a foster mother for the sweetest, kindest, most darling patient she had ever had. dan howell was sixteen and perhaps the smallest boy she had ever seen. from the moment—two years ago—she laid eyes on his frail frame, lying still on a stretcher, his crimson blood staining the fabric, she fell in love with the boy. it wasn't a romantic kind of love—one of the first things they'd talked about was hot celebrity men—but a sisterly-motherly type of love. the love to nurture and care for the boy. she'd always been like that, from as far back as she could remember she had the urge to take care of people. make them feel loved. perhaps that was why she became a nurse in the first place. 

the blonde woman was folding clothes when the doorbell rang. she tossed down a small pair of black skinny jeans, and jogged down the stairs, "one second!" she pulled open the door and tilted her head in confusion upon seeing dan with another—much taller—boy standing on the front porch.

"don't you have school, angel?" the young woman questioned, "what are you doing back so early?" she ushered the two boys inside with a wave of her hot-pink multi-chrome gel nails. they filed inside and the three of them sat around the white wooden breakfast-nook table.

"well, yes," dan stated, "we left." he finished, sliding the discussion off the counter. he turned to the boy sitting beside him, "juliet, this is phil, phil, this is juliet."

juliet could tell something had happened and made a mental note to ask later, he obviously didn't want to talk about it at the present time. "hello phil! welcome to our home!" she leaned across the small table to clasp his hand warmly, shaking it with a bright, toothy smile present upon her face.

"hi," the boy blushed, accepting the greeting with a smaller, shyer, smile. 

"anything to eat, boys?" she leaned on her palms, elbows resting on the surface of the painted table. 

"i can't speak for phil, but we just came from lunch and i'm not hungry." dan answered the young woman. the two turned to look at the black-haired boy. 

"no thank you, not hungry." phil seemed reserved, dan thought. was he alright? was he feeling ok? was he uncomfortable? 

"well, phil," juliet adresses the taller boy as she stood up, "you're quite welcome here for as long as you please. we're having dinner at six-thirty when my boyfriend comes home, if you'd like to stay and your folks are keen, by all means stay!" she punctuated her exclamation with a smile and went out to the lounge before calling back to the boys, "i'll be upstairs ironing if you need me, just holler!" 

dan turned to phil, "you said something earlier about my nails?" 

philI blushed and fiddled with the hems of his jeans, "i just was wondering why you didn't have them done. i mean not that they don't look good!—because they do!—but, i just noticed you usually have them done and didn't know why you didn't have them done today..." phil looked up to see dan smiling fondly. 

"would you like to paint them? i have lots of tools and colors in my room." dan stared, unblinkingly, into phil's eyes. 

"i—uh, they wouldn't be anywhere as nice as when you do it; but i'll try my best!" phil was awfully nervous, dan noted, maybe he just needed to be more direct. 

"are you alright,phil? are you uncomfortable? i can't help but notice you seem tense." dan directly asked the taller boy. 

"i-i'm fine! just a little anxious missing classes, i guess." 

"you know; you didn't have to skip with me, right? i didn't force you to or anything." 

"n-no! that's not what i meant at all! it just feels a bit odd not to be in classes!" 

"oh, alright. anything else? you can talk to me, you know." 

phil wanted to ask about the girl that got hit by chris's book, but knowing how upset he'd gotten after it'd happened, he shied away from it, "is juliet your mum?" 

dan laughed, but phil could tell that despite his efforts, he'd still hit a sore subject, "no, but she might as well be! i'll go get my stuff and be right back, ok?" he slid from the chair and looked back up at the taller boy. 

"yep, sounds good." phil said quickly, watching the receding form of the brunette boy turn the corner and leave the room. keeping phil alone with his thoughts. 


	17. xvii. flames, blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING** Suicidal Thoughts

_"hi, felix. thanks for coming."_ pj's voice is thick, but intact as he welcomes the american over the threshold.

"'course, liguori. anything to distract you from that douche," felix smiles at his childhood friend, biting the inside of his cheek at seeing him suffer.

pj returns the smile, "anything? you flew the whole way from america, just you being here is enough." the green-eyed boy pauses and looks down to the hardwood floor then back up to felix's face, "i've nicked that blowtorch from my dad's toolshed, why exactly do we need that?"

"patience, my friend, patience." felix smirks and his eyes crinkle playfully. he curls his hand around pj's bicep and nudges the british boy out the door he had just came through.

"should i be worried?" pj lets himself be manhandled with a simple grin present on his face.

"absolutely!" felix pauses momentarily to look back at the taller boy, "not!"

pj giggles and tugs himself free from felix's grip as he heads to retrieve the blowtorch from its hiding place.

"excellent." felix nudges pj out of the neatly-tended yard and across the road.

"so! how have you been? what do you do nowadays?" pj inquires of the green-dyed blond haired boy.

felix looks the diretion the duo are headed and doesn't say anything for a spell before responding, "i'm a filmmaker," he says, "i make movies." felix finishes, as if rephrasing the exact thing you said before made it any different.

pj's green eyes light up as he turns to his friend with a newfound interest, "really? god, felix, that's amazing!" the blond turned to pj with confusion present upon his face. "i don't do anything near that large, but sometimes i film sketches with chris—" the brunette stops mid-sentence and the corners of his eyes prickle unpleasantly. he stops walking and looks at the pavement beneath his black converse.

felix puts an arm around pj's shoulders and pulls him against his chest in a tight hug, "you shouldn't be feeling anything for that bastard. don't waste even a second thinking about him." felix's words are harsh but soft. he tilts pj's head up by the chin and looks at him square in the eyes, "he doesn't deserve you. now let's go light some shit up."

tears leak from from his eyes and he blinks rapidly, nodding stiffly.

"excellent," felix says again releasing his grip on pj's chin and his hand falls stiffly to his side. the two boys look at each other directly in the eyes. pj looks away, uncomfortable, and shifts the blowtorch to his left hand. he clears his throat and felix starts, jumping slightly, "right, right. this way."

felix strides foreword at a brisk pace, but pj being as tall as he is, doesn't need to rush to catch up.

"alright! we've arrived." felix has stopped at a picnic bench at what looks to be a children's park.

"felix?" pj looks down at the blowtorch in his grip and uncertainly around at the abandoned play park.

"yes?" the blond turns to his friend after setting his biege messenger bag on the surface of the table.

"what are we going to be—uh—blowtorching at a children's play park?" the thought that this isn't felix and an arosonist has taken on his appearance briefly surfaced over pj's mind, but he instantly expels this.

"i've brought a few things, and don't worry, there's hardly ever anyone here." felix unbuckles the clips holding the messenger bag together and capsizes it. with a metallic clang, a cookie tray slides out and hits the table. soon after that, an odd little artifial intelligence robot pj thought was called a furby fell out. felix holds out a white mask that doctors use whilst operating on patients and pj uncertainly accepts the offering.

"fumes?" the brunette questions his friend; snapping the elastic around his the back of his head.

"yep." felix replies before copying the action.

**

chris kendall sat on the floor in his kitchen. there was no one home, per usual. the boy bites his lip so hard he can feel warm blood trickling from the wound. he pinches the inside of his thigh and winces. he would cut if he wasn't so knife-squeamish. he was a horrible person. he deserved this pain. he'd screamed at his boyfriend—pj would probably never speak to him ever again. he'd thrown his book at tana nox and chris knew there had been a metal protractor in there that could have seriously hurt her. he was going insane. he needed out.

**

flames lick up the sides of the plastic toy, producing a noxious gas.

"that's it, pj. pretend that damn lookin-ass mouse is that douche-dick." felix encourages the brunette with the blowtorch. pj looks fine to felix. but what felix can't see is the tears running down pj liguori's cheeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my poor baby, chris


	18. xviii. wire-rimmed, waterworks

_"tana annemarie nox,_  sixteen, no privious inguries nearly as bad as the present," the red-haired nurse lists off to the doctor hunched over his desk. the woman is short, her bright locks hang in ringlets down to the defined lines of her rounded cleavage, with silvery-blue eyes. previously meantioned eyes are trained pointedly down at the small, typed information file. the doctor sits up and looks at the nurse.

"what happened to her, arabelle?" he tilts his dark eyebrows behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

arabelle—without looking up—spouts, "miss tana nox was sitting in with her friends at lunch during lunch block b when an unnamed student threw their book. the projectile hit her directly in the head, and a metal protractor—that happened to be loosely shoved inside—slid out and cut deeply into her temple." the woman pauses briefly and turns a page, "miss tana as suffered a severe concussion that has temporarily knocked her unconscious, and a deep cut on her temple that may be infected and will definitely need stitches."

the doctor sighs and stands, "alright. lead me to her."

**

"phil?"

"yeah, mum?" phil freezes as he shuts the door behind himself.

"would you care to explain just why i recieved a ring from your high school that you were present for all of the classes before your lunch break, but afterward you showed up to none?" phil doesn't move. "get in here, young man. don't make me ask you again."

shit shit shit. phil looks down at his nails, done to perfection of course, by dan. where the hell did he put his gloves?

"philip michael lester!"

he finds the gloves and hurriedly shoves them on while moving into the kitchen. he finds his mother standing upright against the fridge, a furious scowl drawn across her lips and arms crossed over her small breasts. she taps her foot impaitently.

oh man, was phil ever in some deep shit.

"i-uh, i had to go to my friend pj's house to work on a project—" phil stumbles over  his words and twists his gloves hands together anxiously.

"why the hell are you wearing gloves? we have heating for a reason! take them off." his mum cuts him off by leaning foreward and attempting to snatch the gloves from her son's hands.

phil pulls away quickly and stumbles backwards over his large feet.

"take the damn gloves off!" she leaps foreword again to take the gloves, grabbing his arms, her tall frame towering over him.

"no! stop it mum, my hands are cold!" the black-haired boy feebly protests, but it's far too late. she has already ripped the navy blue cotton gloves off and is staring in horror at her son's manicured nails. 

"what the fuck is this?!"she screeches, her hand clamps tightly around his wrist, cutting off curculation, "did you do this to yourself?!" her pale blue eyes bore angrily into his. phil shakes his head frantically. "who was is then?"

"a hot girl from my maths class." phil slaps his hand over his mouth, almost disgusted at what had slid from his tounge. why why why did he say that?

when his mother has been silent for a long moment, phil looks up at her tentatively. her cherry-red lips are drawn up into a happy smile and her eyes are watering, "mum?" phil whispers, his eyebrows knitting together.

"oh, philly, i'm so happy." she pauses for a long sniff and continues rather shakily, "it makes my day to hear you finally talk about a girl! i'd thought you were  _gay._  . ." she spits the word with disgust.  phil freezes at the word 'gay' and the tone his mother uses it in. oh no. oh no, oh no, oh no. phil knew his parents didn't exactly approve of homosexuality, but he'd thought they'd at least still love their son even if he was one. apparently he was incorrect.

". . .you must've been with this girl after lunch! isn't that right? tell me about her phil! what's her name, what does  she look like?" his mother awaits his answers eagerly.

phil bites his lip. he's already dug hunself into a hole. what's a little deeper? "yes," phil pretends to blush, hoping it looks genuine, " she's the most beautiful human being i've ever laid eyes on. . ." this far was true. dan was perfect in every way imaginable.

his mother's eyes are streaming with happy tears and phil thinks this is the happiest his mother has been all year. it does make him feel bad to be hoodwinking her so. guilt gives his heart a squeeze.

deeper, "she has short straight brown hair, and these big, bright cinnamon tinted eyes. she's very short, but that hardly matters," at this moment, phil realizes that he is completely and totally in love with dan howell. "mum," phil says, "i think i love her."

here come the waterworks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha phil u loser u fucked up lol


	19. xix. hand, dumbass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING** Suicidal Thoughts & Heavy Self-Bashing

the days were getting progressively worse. yes, pj did seem to be calming bit-by-bit via felix, and dan had shifted from his secluded spot alone at the table behind theirs to sit quietly beside phil—but chris hadn't come back yet. in fact, no one had seen him since the textbook incident. 

speaking of tana, dan had revealed nothing about his relationship to the black-haired girl but phil could easily tell just how much she meant to him. the love radiated off of him in painfully obvious waves. phil glanced at him now: he seemed twitchy and awfully anxious. dan was alternating wringing his small hands—no varnish present—and twisting them in the soft coral-pink hoodie he was wearing. 

phil offers a hand out to the other quietly. dan looks up into phil's eyes and with a small intake of breath, phil realized that the golden-flecked brown irises are glossed over with sparkling tears. dan slips his hand into phil's and scoots barely an inch over toward phil.

looking up from his lap, phil hears pj and felix going on about some of the newest films and which ones were an absolute crash and burn. while he does enjoy a good cinema experience, phil finds it much more amiable to sit and relish in the fact that he's holding dan's hand. a smile finds its way across the pale boy's face as he peers down at the printed text on his worksheet and tightens his hold on dan's hand.

**

it'd be easy to do it. there were options. a lot of options. a gun, a knife, or an overdose of his sister's pain relievers she'd left behind would do it. jumping would be so simple, practically instantaneous and mostly painless. it would be over soon. it would have to be. he couldn't hold on for much longer.

the knife was out of the question. he couldn't handle even cutting, no way he'd be able to stab himself through the head or chest. no way.

there were guns in chris's house. that wasn't the problem. the problem was that there was no ammunition to be found and there was no way he was leaving until he got a solid plan together. so that was out too.

his sister's bathroom cabinets were chock-full of bottles of pain killers. there were plenty, but chris knew that it could take awhile before it took affect, and he wanted out now. waiting was not an option.

jumping would work. every factor of this equation worked out. all expect for one. the publicity of it. would it really be worth it? someone could try and stop him. he didn't want to be stopped. he wanted to leave the world in peace. it would be so much better without him there to ruin the people he cared about's lives. not now, not ever. but, it did seem like the best option he had on hand. 

he's sitting quietly on the armchair in the lounge. the television is on to a baking show; he's ignoring it. his eyes feel scratchy and his throat feels raw from crying. he can't cry anymore. his phone rings and he jumps. 

chris's hand finds the cool, cracked metal and slides his finger across without checking who it is. he wants it to be pj. he's praying it's pj. please let it be pj. 

"hey, dumbass, did i leave my spare car keys on the counter?" it's his sister. he hangs up the phone. 

why the hell would pj waste his time calling him? his sister is right. he is a dumbass. he is a dumbass for thinking pj would even think about phoning him. his sister was right. everyone was right. even himself. chris felt even more dumb for thinking he had a reason to live a little longer. 

he sighs and sets his phone down with violetlenly shaking hands. 

calm down. it'll all be over soon. very soon. 

 


	20. xx. heart-rate, i thought you told them

_a set of startlingly_  blue eyes blink open. tana is awake. she is confused. where is she? how did she get here? why was every part of her body tingling with a spidery sensation? was she dead? was the heaven? hell?

"miss. nox! you're awake!" her eyes dart to the source of the noise. a pretty blonde-haired woman had walked through the door tana had just noticed. the woman rushes to tana's side and brushes a manicured hand across tana's brow whilst scribbling furiously on a lined paper.

"where am i? who are you?" says tana, alarmed. she tries to sit up using her hands and arms as support and finds that they are not doing what they are supposed to do. "what's wrong with me?" tana's eyes are wide and frantic.

"honey, honey! calm down! it's ok!" the blonde woman gently presses tana back into the mound of white pillows. "you're at the hospital. i'm a nurse, my name is juliet caraway. you've just woken up from a coma." the woman--juliet--answers each question one-by-one in order. she soothingly brushes back the wayward strands of raven hair that frame tana's heart-shaped face.

"a coma?! what the fuck?! how--what. . . ?"

"calm down, tana! calm down," juliet soothes, stroking tana's hair, "i'm going to start talking about what happened to you, and you tell me if any of it rings a bell," tana nods slowly.

"you were at school, eating lunch. a boy by the name of christopher kendall through his textbook, and it struck you in the side of the head,"

"which side?" tana brings her limp hands up to her face.

"left. upon further examination of the book, a sharp metal protractor was found inside. the heavy book knocked you unconscious--and the protractor cut pretty damn deep into your head." tana's heart is pounding heavily and her hands are flying across her left temple. she can't feel anything, but her hands still feel heavy and limp.

"am i dead?" tana asks faintly while she falls back upon the cushions.

juliet's laugh is pleasant, "no, you're not dead. we patched you up all right." juliet takes one of tana's hands in her own and squeezes it.

**

"does she remember me?"

"we're not sure what she does and doesn't remember, but she seems have a pretty good understanding of who she is. you two were friends for years--i don't believe she could've forgotten all of that so easily."

juliet's words just barely ease dan's nerves, "what if she doesn't?" he looks up at her with his big, brown doe eyes.

juliet pulls dan close to her and strokes his straightened hair, "then we'll just have to carry on, dan." the blonde woman pushes a door to their left open and gives him a reassuring smile before she nudges him in.

dan's eyes are squeezed tightly shut, as if having them closed would make the world go back to the way it should be. neither of them would have laid in an all-white hospital bed.

"dan!" tana's airy voice was thick and deeper than it usually was. dan opens his eyes. tana's straight black hair is rumpled and unruly, her bluebell eyes aware and bright. she is eagerly waving her right hand around in a way that looks uncomfortable.

"you remember me?" dan finds his voice. tana nods happily,

"of course! how would i not remember my best friend?" she looks upset at the mere mention of it. dan frowns. she hasn't been this normal around him since. . .

"tana," the brown-haired boy finds his way to the side of her bed, "how old are you?" his voice is quiet.

tana looks even more confused, "what do you mean? you know me, dan. i'm fourteen, and so are you." dan feels juliets hand squeeze his shoulder. his eyes prickle uncomfortably.

"tana-a," his voice cracks, "you're not fourteen, i'm not fourteen. we're both sixteen." a bead of water rolls down his cheek and drips onto the white material of tana's bedsheets.

"what?" she looks around herself and at her hands and chest. "h-how? i-i don't remember any of it!" she's getting upset now, the heart-rate monitor is speeding up, "give my memories back! you took them, give them back to me!" she lunges at juliet but falls back as two more nurses rush into the room and clamp her arms to her side and settle a mask over her mouth and nose.

dan turns and buries his faces against juliet's waist and she holds him close.

**

"phil, i was thinking," his mother taps her spoon against her lips thoughtfully, "you ought to have that girl of yours over for dinner sometime."

phil's fork clatter noisily against his plate. "what?"

the sharp-eyed woman raises a pale eyebrow at her son, "what do you mean,  _what?_ i said that you should invite that nice young lady you were telling me about last week over for dinner sometime."

"you have a girlfriend?" martyn looks sideways at him. "i thought you were--" phil locks eyes with his brother in desperation, "--going to have dinner at her house tomorrow." he rounds off the sentence unsteadily.  _nice cover-up, bro._

mrs. lester settles a cold, pale hand on phil's arm, "why do you boys never tell us things until last minute? i would have loved to go and meet her, but i have to work late tomorrow. i wonder if i could take off. . ."

"mum, they just wanted to have me over, you know, to get to know me and all." phil rambles.  _dig, dig, dig._

she frowns, "we'd sure like to meet her whenever possible, wouldn't we dear?"

"huh? oh, yes, honey. absolutely." the tall man turns back to his phone. mrs. lester sighs heavily and taps her son's pale arm twice.

"just bring her 'round."

**

"nice save, martyn."

"look, phil, i'm sorry. i thought you told them?" phil's older brother sits beside him on the green and blue duvet.

phil shakes his head, "of course i haven't," he puts his head in his hands, "if i did, i would most likely be living on the streets by now."

martyn puts his arm around phil's shoulders, "if they do kick you out. . . you could always stay with me."

"really?" phil peeks up from out of his arms, "you'd do that for me?"

martyn smiles. "i think anyone in their right mind would do that for you phil. you're honestly the nicest person i know."   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phil y u do this 2 urself


	21. xxi. filmmaking, nice to meet you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's long ooh

   _pj and felix_ are seated at a wooden table across from each other in a large, open room. it's felix's filmmaking class and he's invited pj to come along today. the instructor is talking a-mile-a-minute and clicking through slides displayed on an old-fashioned projector. 

pj taps his pen against his notebook and looks to felix, "is she always like this? fast, i mean."

felix laughs and nods, "pretty much." 

"how are you supposed to get anything out from it then?" pj is confused, "how are you supposed to take anything away to use on your own time?"

felix shrugs, "you get used to it after awhile."

"i'd better. but in the meantime your going to let me copy your notes." the curly-haired boy grabs the edge of felix's notepad and yanks it toward himself. he squints down at the minute printing, "why is your writing so damn small? i can hardly read it." 

felix pulls the pad of paper back and adds another line of print. "i dunno." 

"well, perhaps you should know. it's quite important, you see." 

felix chuckles, "someone's a little bit fiesty today." pj replies by sticking his tongue out and pulling his notebook into his lap. 

"shut up, felix, i'm trying to learn." he proclaims, swiveling to face the instructor.

the blond boy scoffs, turning back to his paper. 

just as pj is beginning to get a hold on note-taking for the class, his phone vibrates against his leg, making him jump. felix makes eye-contact with the green-eyed boy and sticks his tongue out, victorious. 

"pj, if you have better things to do, you may take your call outside the classroom." the instructor turns her razor eyes upon felix and pj's table. 

"yes ma'am." pj says quietly, standing up and leaving--back prickling with embaressment of all the sets of eyes watching him leave. 

he closes the door behind himself and fishes his still-vibrating phone from his pocket. 

"what the hell do you want phil? i was kind of in class!" 

"class? pj it's saturday." phil sounds distressed and confused.

"felix's filmmaking class remeber? we talked about it yesterday at lunch?" pj crosses his arms and taps his feet on the hard-wood flooring, impaitent. 

"oh. i forgot."

"what's ailed you that's caused you to phone me?" 

"uh. . . . i kinda dug myself into a hole and i need help getting out." his voice is tight and meek. 

"what kind of hole?" 

"it's a long story."

"well, i can't help unless you tell me what to help with." 

phil's end of the line is quiet for a pace, "alright." 

"get on with it, then,"

"so i like this guy and my parents don't know that i like guys and i can't tell them because they're homophobic and i told them that i had a girlfriend to cover it up and now they want to meet her and i don't have anyone to go to pretend to be the girlfriend that i don't have nor want and i can't stop rambling, oh my god pj please help." 

"wow. one, i didn't know you were gay. two, who do you like so much that's caused all this to happen? and three, i think i know someone that can help." pj is grinning now. he's glad phil distracted him from the awful nagging filmmaking class. the instructor and felix could suck it. 

"uh, yeah i am i guess. i'd rather not say and who?"

"fair enough--but don't think your in the clear yet phil lester. anyway, her name's dorothy clark, goes by dodie, and funnily enough she's in a situation quite similar to yours." 

"go on." 

"she's bisexual and her parents don't know. sound familar?" pj cracks a grin. 

"a bit, but are her parents supportive?"

"well, she doesn't know that yet now does she?"

"i guess not."

"she's dating this girl and needs a coverup guy for her parents to meet." 

"at least she's dating who she wants." 

"i'll give you her number after i ring her. additionally, i'm on my way." pj leaves the threshold of the classroom and walks down the long hallway. 

"what about the filmmaking class?"

"fuck the filmmaking class, it was boring as hell anyway." 

"i thought you liked films?"

"i do, but that was a load of rubbish. listen phil, i'll be there in a few. i'm going to call dodie and see what's up with her. sound cool?" he exits the building.

"yeah, ok."

"bye."

"see you."

pj ends the interaction and pulls up the keypad, entering in dodie's number by memory. 

"pj! hello! how are you?" the brown-haired girl answers. 

"lovely, and you?"

"er, i'm alright. been better, been worse."

"did something happen?" pj's voice is laced with concern. 

"well, hedy's broken her arm this week. . ."

"yikes, is she ok?"

"of course, she's a real trooper, you know her."

"well, send her my love. and dodie?"

"yeah?"

"do you still need a fake boyfriend?" pj is crossing over a bridge at this point and he stops at the mid-way point, looking out at the churning river far below. 

"yes! oh my god, have you found someone? mum and dad have been right awful about meeting my _lover_." by the way the girl says the word lover, pj can tell she's still upset about it all. 

"i have. funnily enough, he needs a fake girlfriend to cover up that fact he's gay to his parents." he sets off from the halfway point and moves onward. 

"does he?" dodie breaks into laughter, "my god, pj. what's he like?" 

"well. he's gay--but i've already told you that--"

"yes, please continue."

"--he's tall--"

"fuck, why does everyone have to be tall?" 

pj laughs, "i dunno, dodie. why do you have to be so short?"

"suck a tit, ligouri."

"ew never," on the other line, dodie starts laughing again, "he's got black hair and blue eyes, he's kind of a nerd but very sweet." 

"ooh, why don't you date him then?" pj knows that dodie had no way of knowing how deeply those words would affect him. she was just teasing, "pj? are you ok?" 

"i'm not dating right now." his words are clipped tight and short. 

"what happened?" dodie's entire demeanor had changed from when they had first started talking. pj is quiet for a second or two, sitting down on a park bench and looking up at the trees. 

"chris and i broke up." each of the five words brought a stake through his heart. he felt like he was choking. he never though he'd ever say them. 

"i'm so sorry. i'm awful in these types of situations. d'you want to talk about it? we can pretend that i never said anything--i feel like shit. oh hell."

". . . no it's ok. i need to be able to talk about it. it shouldn't affect me so much." dodie is quiet on the other line, giving the curly-haired boy time to talk, "from the moment i first laid eyes on chris. . . i fell in love with him. i never thought we'd seperate. we seemed to be the perfect match. and i really thought we were for the longest time. he was my other half. my soulmate." he stops and calms himself with a long breath, "then this year--everything changed. he changed. slightly at first, but it gradually worsened. at first i just thought he was stressed and needed some time by himself--you knew chris, dodie. you know how he gets."

"yes."

"but he flipped out at lunch a few weeks ago, and almost killed some girl with his maths textbook."

"what the hell?" 

"he didn't mean to, at least i don't think he did! he just threw it across the room and it hit her in the head. i believe she's recovering now, though." 

"who was she?" dodie demanded. 

"her name was tana nox, i think." pj's statment is puncuated by a sharp intake of breath on dodie's end of the line.

"oh my god, i know her! what hospital is she in?" the brown-haired girl's voice sounds frantic now.

"i'm not sure, i'm sorry dodie." pj rests his head on the back of the bench, closing his eyes.

"it's ok, i should be the one saying sorry, i totally interrupted you. please continue. i'll listen this time, scout's honor."

"you can talk, we are on the phone, you know."

"yes, i'm not daft, pj ligouri."

"he hasn't been at school since. . . and i'm awfully worried about him, dodie." tears spring to his eyes and the choking sensation returns. 

"have you rung him?"

"no. felix says i shouldn't waste time on him." speaking of felix, he's probably wondering where pj is by now. 

"well, felix is a numpty, being devoid of emotion is not normal." 

"he's just trying to help, and besides, even if i did ring chris, i doubt he'd pick up."

"well what if he did?"

"what would i say? what is one supposed to say to their unoffical ex-boyfriend who nearly killed a girl with a flying projectile?"

"ask him how he is, what he's doing, if he's ok."

"dodie, that conversation would be hellspawn. i don't think he's right in the head, anyway." pj whispers the second sentence, gripping the cold metal armrest of the bench. 

"why?"

"he just didn't seem completly sane the last time we talked." 

"when was the last time?"

"textbook lunch day."

"well i doubt he was pleased at that moment."

pj's voice breaks, "dodie, i'm seriously worried about him."

"visit him, then." 

the boy pulls his legs up to his chest and scrubs his undereyes furiously, "i can't!"

"let's not talk about this right now," dodie decides, "what's my boyfriend's name?"

pj sniffs, "phil lester."

"alright then, give me phil lester's number and introduce me to him." dodie takes charge of the conversation, trying to motivate her distressed friend into action. 

"i-i'll text it to you, head 'round to my place and we'll meet you there." pj stands up, clears his throat, and wipes his eyes. 

"right. seeya, pj."

"bye."

the brown haired boy opens a new message to dodie and enters phil's number, then messages phil. 

**we'll be meeting up w/ ur new gf shortly**

as he exits out from his conversations with phil, pj notices felix's name and opens a textbox. 

**srry about leaving, got a situation, grab my shit will u?**

felix doesn't reply and pj turns off his phone with a sigh. he can be salty if he wants to be—he's  got too much shit on his plate already. 

his lengthy conversation with first phil and then dodie had summed up to the time it would've taken to walk to phil's house. he would've been there by now had he not stopped on the bridge and at the park. 

luckily, he's nearly there. pj pushes himself into a light jog, mind churning. names danced across the inside of his skull:  _dodie, phil, tana, felix,_ chris. events: the cafeteria textbook incident, the embaressing filmmaking class just barely half an hour ago, the day he met chris. 

"pj!" a voice pj recognizes as phil's snaps him from his trance. 

"hey, what're you doing here?" pj questions, as he's still a good five minutes away from his destination. 

"i decided to meet you halfway so you didn't have to walk as far." phil clarifies. 

"alright, follow me." pj doesn't question how phil knew where he was beforehand, his brain is crammed enough as it is. 

the walk back to his own house is tediously uneventful. the two boys make smalltalk, but nothing monumental. as they round the corner and pj's house comes into view, a shortish girl with brown shoulder-length loose curls can be seen waving furiously. she's wearing a striped white shirt and black skirt suspenders. 

she greets pj with a tight hug and turns to phil, "hello! i'm dodie clark, and apparently we're dating now!" 

phil blushes and smiles awkwardly, "nice to meet you, i'm phil lester." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's also the last one i have for now so sorry i'll update when i can 
> 
> YEE DODIE


	22. xxii. lesbian, headaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gUESS WHOS BACK

_"i did what?!"_ the shrill voice of tana nox can be heard through the entire second floor of the hospital. 

a small brown-haired boy sits on the edge of her bed and his face contorts in displeasure at the sudden raise in pitch, "tana--honestly--it's ok. that was in the past and this is the present. i forgave you immediately after you did it and i forgive you know again." 

tana's long black hair shudders as she shakes her head wildly, "what the fuck was wrong with me? who just fucking pushes their best friend down a flight of stairs?! i could've fucking murdered you!" it seems that in this new wave of shock, she cannot go a sentence without the swear passing from between her chapped lips. 

"it wasn't you that hurt me, tana, i already told you that!" dan's doe eyes are watering and he grips her cold hand tightly. 

"it doesn't matter that i didn't, dan," tana looks down at her white-sheet covered lap, letting her dark tresses cover her face, "i started it. cause and effect. every action has an reaction." 

dan smiles thinly, "alright, professor." 

tana looks at dan through her curtain of hair and laughs darkly. 

"it's really good to have you back," the brown-eyed boy whispers, a lone tear tracing down his cheek. 

with a broken sob, tana latches onto dan and holds him tight against her chest, the other squeezing just as hard. 

"i love you so much, baby," tana cries, stroking dan's curly hair. 

"i love you so much, god, it hurts." 

"i feel like i'm on my period with all these mood swings, jesus christ," tana says quietly after a moment of silence. dan chuckles into her shoulder. 

"so, uh," tana picks at her nails after dan has returned to his spot in front of her. 

"yeah?" dan prompts, wiping his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his overly-large black jumper. 

"if we haven't been friends for the past two years, who have i been around?" she sounds embaressed to ask the question, but she needs to know. 

"oh," dan frowns a bit, "with the so called _popular_ crowd. You had a boyfriend too. You never looked happy when i saw you, though." he makes air quotes as he says popular. 

"oh shit, i do?" tana's head lurches up and her blue eyes go wide. 

dan furrows his brows, "yes," he says carefully. 

"oh, no no no no no!" she covers her mouth and nose with her cupped palms and then rakes a hand back through her hair. 

dan sits up and puts one hand on her knee and one hand on her cheek, "what? what's wrong?" 

"dan," her voice is quiet, level. she's stopped moving and her eyes are staring right into his, "i'm lesbian." 

dan's jaw drops, "you're kidding. how long have you known?" 

"it was definitely back when we were still talking, i don't know why i didn't tell you. maybe i was still questioning or wasn't completely sure. . . but i know right now for one-hundred percent sure that i am lesbian. it might've been the crowd i was hanging around, you talked about those girls that i was with when i. . ."

"yeah." 

". . .i think i've figured it out!"

"figured what out?" 

"the reason i shut you out of my life."

"go on, then."

"maybe i mentioned that i thought girls were pretty to those girls and they thought that you were  _rubbing off_  on me or some shit," from the way she spits the words, dan can tell that this upsets the girl more than she's letting on, "then they convinced me that i needed to distance myself from you. . ." she rubs her forehead and scrunches her face up. 

"it makes sense," dan agrees, "are you remembering something?"

"no, my head just aches horribly. oh, shit call juliet--will you?" tana lays back on the bed and dan nods frantically as he scrambles off the bed and hurries out of the room and down the hall. 

**

"last time you told me who i was friends with, so fill me in. who are you friends with? anyone cute?" she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

dan blushes and hides his face in his grey sweatshirt. 

"oh, my god! there totally is! fill me the fuck in, honey." 

"fuck, i can't belive i'm admitting this out loud." 

"let it out, babycakes, i'm all ears."

"there is this guy, his name is phil lester. . ." dan trails off. 

"oh, shit there's always a catch. he's with someone--isn't he?" tana scratches her nose. 

"no," dan says carefully, "i just. . .don't know if he likes boys or not." 

"goddamnit," tana rolls onto her back beside dan who is already in the same position. 

they stare up at the dull white ceiling for a moment and then tana shoots up like a rocket. 

"i've got it!"

"what?" 

"i know how i can make it up to you for being a fucking cunt-brained bitch for the past two years!"

dan snorts, "you know you don't have to do anything--"

"shut up, howell, i'm going to get you that man." 

dan burries his face in his hands, "oh, jesus christ." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back but i might not be for awhile bc school& work & such ily sorry for being a procrastinating asshole & the short chap


	23. xxiii. missed calls, i need out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING** TALK OF SUICIDE & ACTION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

kik conversation between dodobird and cactiboi

dodobird: haha nice kik name

cactiboi: same to you, my dear :)

dodobird: bAbE

cactiboi: dARLING DEAREST

dodobird: snOOkuMs

cactiboi: my ONE AnD oNLY

dodobird: Hot hUNK oF A mAn

cactiboi: bABYgIrL

dodobird: bIg DaDDYY

cactiboi: ok ew this is getting too hetero for my gay ass

dodobird: lmfao same

cactiboi: ew @straight people

dodobird: thats the most relatable thing ive ever read in my life

cactiboi: roses are red. violets are blue. i am gay and so are you

dodobird: ohmygod my boyfriend has such a way with words♡♡♡♡♡ im so ##luckky #poetic #loveofmylife

cactiboi: only 4 u kitten

**

kik conversation between ptothej and ffeelliixx

ptothej: you have the most uncreative kik name thats ever existed

ffeelliixx: ok, first of all, ouch and second of all, you told me to make a kik. i did. im not seeing the problem here.

ptothej: that sounds like a you problem

ffeelliixx: wtf are you on

ptothej: my bed

ffeelliixx: when did this turn into sexting

  
ptothej: ew thats gay

ffeelliixx: youre gay

ptothej: hello 999? im being sexually harassed

ffeelliixx: oh my josh im so dun with you

ptothej: iM LITERALLU SCREAMING WHAT THE FUCK FELIX

**

kik conversation between tNaOnXa and imturningemoagainhelp

tNaOnXa: babeee

imturningemoagainhelp: whattt

tNaOnXa: gUESS WHAT

imturningemoagainhelp: wHAT

tNaOnXa: i get out tomorrow IM SCREECHING

imturningemoagainhelp: AHHHHHHHH YESS IM CRYING TEARS OF JOY

**

kik conversation between ptothej and kendalljenner (user deleted)

kendalljenner (user deleted): i lovvvveeeeeeeeeeeee youuuuu goodnight my darrlinngg ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ptothej: love you too, night ♡

read 2 months ago at 1:32 AM 

**

_incoming call from actual girlfriend_

"hey, what's new?"

"i'm out!"

"oh my god! yay!"

"is it weird if i'm already outside your house?"

"of course not!"

"alright, that's a relief. can you let me in?"

"yep. just give me a sec."

"ok."

". . ."

"alright i'm gonna hang up now."

"ok."

dan pulls open the door and is instantly hit by a whirl of long dark hair and bright yellow sundress. tana kisses his cheek and grins so wide her cheeks ache.

"hey, you!" tana cries.

"hi!" dan wraps his arms tightly around the taller girl's back and can't seem to let go.

"alright, buttercup, you're gonna have to let me go! i might break a rib!" the raven-haired girl laughed and dan, smiling widely, moves back and shuts the door.

"sorry," he blushes, "i'm just really excited that you're all better! wait! are you going to come back to school? is your mum letting you?"

"yeah, but she's making me take a break in the nurse's office during fifth period from now on." tana rolls her eyes and shifts her weight.

"why? doesn't she know that the hospital wouldn't let you out unless you're ready to face the world again?"

"i don't know, dan. it's bullshit. i'll be seventeen in six months. . ." she looks at her painted toenails and dan looks down too.

"i like your nails, what'd you use?"

tana laughs, "don't you already own every holo nail polish that exists?"

dan attempts to pout through his own laughter, "and every powder, but that's besides the point. i am a motherfucking nail art professional. by order of the nail law, i order you to tell me what holo is on your damn feet!"

tana laughs so hard she starts wheezing and dan breaks his façade, "are you ok?" he puts a hand on her arm.

tana coughs and pushes her dark hair behind her ear, "i'm all good." she puts both thumbs up for effect.

"are you sure?" dan says cautiously, not wanting to press the subject but the need to make sure his best friend was ok overpowered the former.

"yes. i'm one hundred percent sure i am fine." tana says, starting toward the set of stairs.

"if you're sure. . ." dan trails off, following the dark-haired girl up the stairs.

"anyway!" tana says loudly, obviously changing the subject, "let's talk about phil lester. news?"

dan blushes, "no, not really."

tana sits down upon the dark duvet on dan's bed, "come on, dan, make a move! you got something you want, go for it!"

"it's not that fucking simple, tana, and you damn well know that!" dan huffs, throwing himself down beside the girl.

**

kik conversation between ptothej and ffeelliixx

ptothej: hey, felix? are you there?  
ptothej: its important

ffeelliixx: i'm here  
ffeelliixx: what's wrong?

ptothej: can you come over please? theres no one here but me and i think im having a panic attack

ffeelliixx: i'm on my way  
ffeelliixx: be strong

**

pj's fingers hesitate on the contact call button before pressing down.

the smooth device was cold against his ear and his breathing was loud, irregular and heavy.

the dial tone echos insistently in his head, making it throb. the call goes to voicemail: "chris kendall, leave a message".

pj clicks out of the call before a voicemail can be recorded and immediately calls again to yield the same result. over and over and over again, the ringing buzzes in the lining of his skull, headache bursting through his forehead and ears.

he isn't completely sure how many times he has tried to call by the time felix is knocking hard on his front door. the last call goes to voicemail and pj ends it, standing up unsteadily, jamming his phone in his pocket. he grips his aching forehead with one hand and uses the other to navigate to the door.

as soon as he opened the door, he collapsed into felix's arms, becoming heavy dead weight.

"shh, it's ok. everything's gonna be alright. . ."

**

it is eleven twenty-three in the evening when chris wakes up and stumbles upstairs to find something to eat amongst the rotting food in the refrigerator that had broken several weeks ago and no one cared enough to fix.

he notices he had left his phone on the counter and he rubs the encrusted sleep from his eyes then picks a wedgie with one hand as he scoops the device from the counter with the other.

chris stares down at his cracked phone and blinks owlishly.

thirty-nine missed call from pj ligouri.

chris can feel his throat closing up.

pj called him. thirty-nine times. what was so desperately important that pj had tried to call him so many times? and why had he stopped at thirty-nine? was something wrong or had he just given up?

chris's unwashed hair falls around his face in greasy strands as he looks down at the stained, dirty floor. what was he to do?

call back? wait for pj to call back, if he even did? text him?

chris gathers even shred of courage in his entire body and brings up pj's contact, pressing the call button before he can change his mind and back out. the ringing sends heavy bangs of anxiety through his stomach and he shivers, gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles go white.

he tries to breathe through the oncoming wave of anxiety looming dangerously overhead.

then finally, ". . . chris?"

"pj," his voice cracks. it's hard to talk now after being silent for so long.

the silence is thick enough to be cut down the center.

"you called. . . i, uh, was returning it." chris coughs and holds onto the counter as if it were the only thing tethering him on the planet.

"oh. yeah. i was. . . in the midst of a panic attack. i, uh, you know. panicked. . ." pj's voice is low and slightly hoarse.

"are you ok?" chris's instincts with his ex, that had never formally broken up with him, kicked in.

"i'm better now, not perfect, but better."

another pause.

"chris. . .?"

"yeah?"

"are you ok?" pj's voice is guarded and careful, but at the same time open and vulnerable.

chris doesn't say another for awhile. what can he say? that he's dangerously suicidal and ready to end his life in a moment's notice? that this is the first time he's properly spoken to anyone since the lunch period he had snapped.

"chris? are you. . . still there?" pj sounds desperate and scared.

"yeah."

"ok."

he's silent again.

"chris. . . please. . ."

before he can stop himself, chris is speaking, and he can't stop, "my mum left four months ago, delaney left last month with her piece of shit boy toy and only comes round to steal money for gas and even before she left she was never around and i've been alone for so long and nothing works here anymore and my grandmother died and those dumb fucking teachers loaded more and more homework and essays and i had to quit my shitty job at mcdonald's just so i could get it all done and now everything's not working because no one's paying the bills and i'm most likely going to get evicted and put in an orphanage," he takes a long, gasping breath, "so i'm going to jump off a fucking bridge and rid the world of my pitiful existence."

"chris where are you? are you at your house? please don't leave, i'll be there as fast as humanly possible! i'm sorry for everything, i love you so much, chris, i miss you every damn day and i don't think i could even begin to comprehend my life if you aren't here—" pj's voice is high, worried and rushed, panic creeping in on all sides. 

"pj, i—i can't anymore. . . i can't live anymore. i have to get out." chris is on autopilot, leaving his house, the door hanging wide open in his wake.

pj's voice is frantic and breathless, "chris, baby, please!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI
> 
> my dad is currently pretending to be a dog and just punted one of my moccasins across my room so hard it hit the wall and left a mark, hows your evening going?
> 
> ALSO I've turned into joshler trash, expect (hopefully) some sweet, sweet tyler&josh fics. I kinda want to put them in this fic but I feel like between dan, phil, dodie, pj, chris, felix (maybe I'm missing people idk) that i have enough (we'll see)
> 
> I do have a phan draft that had tyler & josh as side characters with eventual side joshler but I'm not sure if I'll ever put that up.
> 
> additionally, it feels fantastic to write something!
> 
> NEXT UP: THE DODIE/PHIL DATE (KEEP IN MIND THE DATE HAPPENS BEFORE BUT ON THE SAME DAY AS WHAT YOU JUST READ WITH PJ&CHRIS)


	24. xxiv. horrific choice, lips of death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***HIGH TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE ATTEMPT***

   phil is dressed in a navy button-down and a pair of black skinny jeans, his church shoes on his feet upon his mother's insistence. 

even though the date is fake and his "girlfriend" happens to have a girlfriend of her own, the blue-eyed boy still feels like the metaphorical butterflys are trying to break through his stomach and fly free. phil would like nothing more than to let them go but sadly, human anatomony just does not work like that. 

dodie's texted him, she's on her way and just as nervous as phil himself. even though phil's gay and dodie has a girlfriend, he could see himself dating the pretty brunnette girl in perhaps another life. 

"phil! come help set the table!" his mother's voice is shrill and full of excitement from downstairs and the boy in question jumps, then hurries out, taking the stairs two-at-time. 

as he puts silverware in front of eight seats, phil knaws on his chapped lips and the anxieties pile up upon eachother like falling snow. 

the doorbell chimes and the raven-haired boy's head shoots up. 

"answer it!" his mother hisses from her spot in front of it, a fake white-toothed smile spreading from between cranberry lips. 

he hurries to comply to his mother's wishes and opens the door. 

fiddling with the hem of her pastel lace-lined dress, dodie smiles up through her waves of dark hair at phil. 

"hey," she says.

he coughs and shifts on the threshold before holding up a hand in greeting and smiling, "hi, dodie!" the smaller girl leans to embrace him and he accepts it happily. her skin is warm and she smells of peaches. 

as he comes up from the hug, phil notices the man and woman standing a ways behind what quite obviously was their daughter. 

dodie's mother was lean and thin with lots of pin-straight dark hair and pink lips. her father, just an inch or so above his daughter, was intimidating. phil stiffens and looks quickly past his judgemental eyes. 

"please," phil steps back into his house and sweeps an arm out, "come in!"

dodie and her father enter first, then her mother and a young girl phil had just noticed clinging to her mother's hand. one of her little arms is strung up in a sling. 

"oh, no, are you okay?" phil can't help but ask, bending down to the little girl's level. 

she grins widely and nods, "all better!" she looks up at her mother truimphantly. 

"not quite yet, heather." she says, fondly looking down at her child. phil frowns slightly, the unfamiliarity of a caring mother confusing him.

"i'm phil," he tells heather, holding out his hand to her. 

heather tugs out of her mother's grasp to clap him in an unexpectedly firm handshake.  

straightening up, phil faces dodie's mother. 

"astrid," she says, smiling. "you just make dorothy so happy. it's an honor to finally meet you." instead of the handshake he was expecting, astrid pulls him into a tight hug. phil wants to cry. he can't remember the last time he'd had a hug like this from either of his parents. 

she cups his cheeks as they break apart and notices the tears sparkling in the corners. 

"she's amazing, mrs. clark, i don't see how anyone could see her and think anything less."

"astrid," she reminds him, nodding. 

the three of them come off the porch and phil closes the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. _it's going to be okay._

                                                                                       **

coming back up the stairs, felix is nearly trampled to death by pj as he comes flying down. 

"woah, woah! dude! what's wrong?" he says, eyes wide, hands finding purchace on pj's shoulders. 

"gotta go, gotta go right now! right fucking now!" he scrambles furiously to get past felix. 

"pj, calm down, please you're scaring me! i can help if you just tell me what's wrong!"

"no! felix let me out! i have to get there before him!" he's screaming through sobs now. 

"who? pj, get to who?" 

"chris!" pj screams, "he's going to kill himself! felix fucking let me out!"

felix's eyes go impossibly wide with shock, arms momentarily faltering, giving pj the time he needs to break through and hurtle himself through the door. 

he can hear felix yelling after him and the thumping footfalls signalling he's taken chase, but pj doesn't care. he can't care.  _chris. chris. chris._

                                                                                          **

phil sits rigidly in his seat in between martyn and dodie, keeping his eyes trained down at his plate of vegan lasagne, clenching the edges of his chair. 

they've thankfully gotten past the customary, 'how did you meet?' and 'who asked who out?' but what comes next may be worse. the small talk. 

"so, where do you work,  mr. lester?" dodie starts it out, the saint. 

"huh?" the man's head shoots up from his lap, phone screen reflected by his thick glasses, and phil's mother kicks him beneath the table. "oh, yes, i'm sorry, my dear. i work on creating new technology." The answer is short and clipped, like everything his father says. martyn coughs awkwardly from his left. 

dodie nudges him in the calf gently, giving him a smile and a thumb's up beneath the table. 

he grins thankfully, and freezes as his phone begins to vibrate in his pocket.

all eyes around the table turn to him. without even making eye-contact, phil can feel the stinging glare of his mother. he'll get hell for this later. 

he digs it out and peers at the caller id. dan. he abruptly stands from the table, "excuse me for just a minute."

hurrying from the room and onto the porch he answers, "hey, dan."

"fuck, phil oh my god, where are you?"

"at my house, are you okay?" he grips the phone a little tighter with shock. 

"just got off the phone with pj, he's a fucking wreck. you should've heard the way he cried, fuck!"

"what's going on?" frantic now, phil feels the familiar churn of anixety in his gut. 

"chris called him, from what i got, and he's going to jump off the bridge!"

"what the fuck," phil says, "where are you? how long ago was this?"

"tana and i are on our way, i don't know if felix is with pj or not but fucking hurry!"

"okay!" he says to the beeping end of the call. faced with a horrific choice, phil quickly makes his decision, texting dodie and running through his yard and across the street. 

                                                                                     **

chris stands, shivering, on the lip of the bridge, watching the water crash against rocks far below. he settles down, legs dangling and gives his phone a good hurl. it splashes and he peers down to watch it sink. he feels oddly at peace. 

                                                                                     **

pj gets there first. 

"chris!" he screams, tears all but obscuring his vision. 

the figure turns his head. 

                                                                                      **

felix pants, throat burning as he reaches pj. 

"don't get any closer!" chris says, but the words are strangely calm. 

                                                                                     **

dan and tana whip around the corner, hair a mess from the wind. 

felix and pj stand a few feet away from where chris sits, easily on the edge of the bridge, amiably swinging his legs. 

                                                                                     **

when phil gets there pj's being forcefully held back by felix and tana, dan's fearful doe eyes switching back between chris and pj. 

phil hurries to his side and impulsively takes his hand. 

dan squeezes it, tight. 

                                                                                   **

dodie arrives and pj is no longer being restrained. chris still sits upon the parted lips of death.

"chris," dan's voice rings out, "you don't have to do this! i know you know that! everything will be okay, you can get better! what you're feeling is not forever!"

chris turns, "i feel better than i have for months, why would i want to stop feeling like this?" genuine confusion clear across his expression. 

"because what you're feeling isn't real! yeah, it's gonna be fucking awful for awhile but just think about how everyone right here will feel if you leave us!" he pauses as chris looks out across their group. 

"i don't even know half of you." he says. 

"you can, chris." dan says. "open yourself up, it's okay to let people love you." 

chris gives a look back to the drop off to the crashing waters below and swings his legs over the side and slides off, sitting against the bricks, curling in on himself. 

pj instantly is by his side, arms folding around him, loud aching sobs ringing out from both boys. 

dan tightens his hold on phil's hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BITCH
> 
> ohmygod can you believe this
> 
> an update 
> 
> (i wouldn't get used to it)


End file.
